The current carved its hymn through barren stone,
It drew my mouth to drink its wordless creed.
What once was mine was scattered, overthrown,
Each tether cut, each recollection freed.
A mouth once moved - its pattern is erased,
A sound was shaped, but air absorbs it whole.
The order of beginnings is displaced,
No seam is left between the mind and soul.
I walk among the remnants I can’t name,
Their forms collapse, unfastened from their weight.
The water crucified the root of claim,
And taught me how to recognize the late.
A silence grows where certainty had been,
And leaves me clean of what my eyes have seen.
The Waters of Lethe
© Copyright: Староминскаяя, 2025
Свидетельство о публикации №125081700385
Свидетельство о публикации №125081700385
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